


The Best of Intentions

by elem (elem44)



Category: Star Trek: Voyager
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-02
Updated: 2018-03-02
Packaged: 2019-03-26 03:29:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,904
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13849152
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elem44/pseuds/elem
Summary: A post-Endgame fixer upper set in Tuscany. Kathryn, coffee, sunshine, wine, contemplation and Chakotay - what could be more perfect.Written for the 2017 Vamb Winter Picture Prose Contest. Prompt: Warmth2nd in both the Best Naughty and Best Epic categories.





	The Best of Intentions

The broad expanse of Tuscany’s sun drenched landscape stretched out before her and, from the cool shadows of the villa’s balcony, Kathryn shaded her eyes and surveyed the view. Taking a deep breath, she closed her eyes and spent an indulgent moment soaking in the peace and relative quiet of the Italian countryside.

It was going to be another warm day. The sun shone bright in the sky; its harsh glare turning distant gravel roads into shimmering mirages; the air heavy with a torpor that reminded her of a mid-summer’s day in Indiana.

The cool of the morning had long ago surrendered to the warmth; the shadows of trees and buildings growing steadily shorter as the sun climbed towards its zenith. The few stubborn puffs of clouds that had streaked the sky earlier that morning were now gone - no match for the summer’s heat.

Other villas dotted the hills and valleys around her – each built with local stone and painted in varying shades of ochre and pink. They nestled amongst the groves of cypress and ancient, majestic stone pines; their places in the landscape chiseled centuries ago from the rich earth, and bearing witness to a thousand years of change. It filled one with the sense of wonder but also the certainty of the intransigence of time and its relentless forward march – unless, of course you were a certain Admiral Janeway and you had your heart set on bringing your crew home. Time wasn’t so intransigent then, was it? Kathryn smiled to herself. Surely, it was too early in the day for such musings.

She shook her head and cast her eyes over the now familiar view where the silvery blue of olive groves contrasted with the ordered lines of vivid green vineyards growing the Sangiovese, Canaiolo and Malvasia varietals famous to the region.

Pencil pines of dark green were dashed like haphazard exclamation marks against the paler green of the hills and valleys, and the distant hazy blue of the Apennine Mountains created the fitting backdrop to this picture postcard view. It was spectacularly beautiful.

She reached for her cup of coffee – her third, or was it fourth for the morning; she’d lost count - but instead of taking a sip, she moved it to one side and, with her fingertip, traced the damp outline left by the mug’s base on the ancient oak table. It melded seamlessly with other marks and stains sunk deep into the patina of the antique wood.

If only this table could talk; she thought wistfully. Oh, the tales it could tell of the hundreds, if not thousands, of beings that had sat at its well-worn sides during its long and eventful life. Scuffed and a little shabby, its corners rounded by use over the centuries, it told of a vibrant and colorful past, now lost in the mists of time.

But it wore its age well.

There was a large dark smudge of something – probably red wine - directly in front of her and she rested her hands on top of it. The warmth of the wood soaked through her palms as though it harbored the life essences of all those who had been here before her. Would she leave a little of herself behind when she left here? She hoped so.

Kathryn idly wondered who had caused the stain. How long ago it had happened? And what they were doing when it had occurred? Had they been happy, sad, drunk or simply clumsy? The thought was somewhat prosaic but she was relieved to realize that her mind had at last quieted enough that she was able to dwell on the mundane without a fist of panic hitting her mid-chest or her thoughts darting to worries and concerns over which she had no control.

She let her mind wander and allowed an image to evolve. She pictured a rabble of garrulous and gesticulating locals partaking of fare spread across a checkered cloth-covered surface. Carafes of wine would be passed from one reveler to the next as their laughter and voices steadily rose in volume, the wine flowing as toasts were made to each other, their lives, their loves and the coming harvest.

She smiled at the mental montage, and it took only a moment before her mind strayed to thoughts of her crew and the happy times they’d spent together. She instantly imagined them gathered around a table much like this one, all their dear and familiar faces, happy and smiling and reveling in joy of being together once more. Her family and the people she loved best in the world, all gathered together sharing stories, memories and laughter. She held the picture in her mind’s eye, committing the particulars to memory and holding the idea close to her heart.

Having locked that happy thought away, she was assailed by an intense need to know what her crew were doing.

Getting on with their lives, she hoped, and relishing a degree of peace in this new/old world in which they’d found themselves.  

She inhaled deeply. The air was warm and fragrant and scented with the sweet smell of the honeysuckle that trailed its haphazard way up the villa’s walls and railings, the earthy tang of newly cut grass and the warm familiarity of freshly brewed coffee. It was all tinged with the faint aroma of cow manure and her nose wrinkled slightly as she glanced next door to the small herd of handsome grey Chianina cattle – native to this region of Italy – as they milled about the nearby barn waiting for biscuits of hay and buckets of grain to be thrown into the feed bins.

Her gaze shifted back to the view. She’d chosen this place because of its elevation – she could literally see for miles - and also because of its proximity to the village of Anchiano – Leonado da Vinci’s birthplace. It was perhaps a foolish notion but she felt closer to Voyager here – the maestro having become the embodiment of some of her happiest times on board her ship - and it felt right to be here. She shrugged to herself and then mentally rolled her eyes. She didn’t have to justify her reasons to anyone - even herself. She was here and that was all that mattered.

Kathryn took another deep breath and let it out slowly as she lifted her cup to her lips and sipped her cooling coffee.

Today, _if_ she could rouse the energy to move, she would head into town to do some shopping and visit the museum and art galleries again. She’d been there several times already, but never grew tired of looking at Leonado’s work. To be so close to his authentic sketches and paintings filled her with a joy that she found hard to express. But she reveled in the knowledge that the ‘real’ Leonado had drawn and painted each of those images, so reminiscent of the holographic versions that had become so much a part of her off-duty life during those final few years in the Delta Quadrant. For that reason alone, they held a special place in her heart.

It seemed odd that those forays into Leonado’s holodeck workroom felt so far away now. Not just in distance but in time as well. It was another one of those irritating ambiguities of space/time that defied explanation. Why did something that had been so real and ‘in the moment’ suddenly take on the tenor of a long ago memory? Sitting there, surrounded by the peace and tranquility of a languid Italian summer’s day, it almost felt as though those experiences had happened to someone else entirely.

If Tuvok were there, he would proffer some convoluted explanation on the vagaries of space/time, packed to the gunwales with theoretical quantum physics, interpretations of string theory, and hypotheses on the non-linear characteristics of time. Her heart swelled with affection as she thought of him.

It made sense that he would be on her mind. They never did make it to her holodeck program to share that promised glass of wine at the inn outside Sienna after their encounter with the malevolent Srivani scientists. By the time the damaging implants had been removed and the crew treated for the injuries caused by the aliens’ appalling medical experiments, a new disaster loomed and the glass of wine and time off had been forgotten.

The Da Vinci program had played a role in that incident as well.

It was strange how life dipped and wove its merry way through events and experiences on its never-ending meandering path, only to bring one back to those seemingly unconnected but pivotal moments of one’s life.

She regretted now not taking the time to have that glass of wine with Tuvok, but time had been a rare commodity on Voyager, and it never seemed to be on her side.

Tuvok was now on Vulcan, recuperating from the fal-tor-voh ceremony; a cure for the rare neurological disease that had struck him down in the final months of their journey. His mind was healed and she had plans to visit him before she took up her new post with the Admiralty. Perhaps this afternoon she would buy a bottle of wine that they could share in the garden of his home on Vulcan, or at her house if he was visiting Earth anytime soon. The thought cheered her and she smiled to herself.

She still had two months of leave left and it suddenly struck her that the time would be well spent doing a round of visits. Tom, B’Elanna and baby Miral, Harry and his parents, Icheb at the Academy, the Doctor on Jupiter Station and Seven of Nine. She’d been diligent about keeping in contact with everyone – Tom had been the hub of communications network, leaving messages with updates on everyone’s whereabouts and wellbeing - but it was probably time to head back to civilization and come out from under this idyllic Tuscan rock.

She huffed a quiet laugh and picked up her coffee again. It was stone cold and, although she probably shouldn’t have another, she shrugged and moved to stand. But before she could make a move, a hand rested on her shoulder and then another appeared from behind her, and placed a steaming cup in front of her.

Both hands now rested on her shoulders and gently massaged her neck. “I think I got that order telepathically.”

She turned and kissed his fingers and then looked up. “We’ve obviously been spending far too much time together.”

“I don’t know. It saves the effort of putting sentences together. I could get used to it.”

“Do you know what I’m thinking now?”

His hands slid confidently down over her shoulders, and under her top to cup her breasts. He gave them a gentle squeeze and her nipples puckered against his palms. She sighed.

He toyed with them for a moment and then muttered, “Nup, I haven’t got a clue.”

She laughed as he extricated his hands. “You’re miserable tease.” She moved over on the bench and made room for him.

He muttered, “Spoil sport.” as he sat down beside her. As soon as he was settled, he placed his hand on her leg, stroking the sensitive flesh of her inner thigh through her clothing. She smiled to herself. She would never have imagined him to be such a ‘toucher’. He’d always seemed so restrained on Voyager – certainly with her. It wasn’t until several weeks ago that he’d explained just how difficult it had been for him _not_ to touch her.

God, she was pleased those days were over. She’d been ‘touched’ more times over the last couple of months than she had over the last forty odd years.

Kathryn sighed happily and leaned into him. “It’s beautiful here.”

“It is.” He waited a moment before he continued. “But you’re ready to head back to civilization.”

He’d spoken her thoughts almost word for word. “I am.”

“You looked very pensive when I came out here. Can I ask what were you thinking about?”

She jabbed him gently with her elbow. “I thought you could read my mind.”

“Most of the time I can, but then again, in many ways you’re still a mystery to me.”

Kathryn huffed a laugh. “I guess I should be glad of that.”

He shrugged. “I’ve known you for a lot of years, Kathryn but you can still surprise me and I’m rather fond of surprises.”

“Would it surprise you to know I was thinking about the crew?”

“I’d be surprised if you weren’t.”

She turned slightly and cupped the side of his dear face, before her fingers traced the lines of his tattoo. “I know they’re fine but...”

“You’d like to make sure.”

“I know I’m a mother hen but, after seven years, it’s hard to stop.”

Chakotay leaned forward and kissed her. “Come back to bed.” He cocked an eyebrow and his voice dropped an octave and acquired an appalling German accent. _“I have vays to make you forget.”_

Kathryn jolted back and grimaced. “Oh-My-God! I don’t think I’ve ever been so turned _off_ in my life.”

He laughed. “I’ll stick to the telepathy, then. I seem to have better luck with the ladies that way.”

“Ladies?! Plural?! I think not.”

“Woman, then. _My_ woman.”

“That’s a little better. Although the possessive is a touch antiquated. Tapping into your inner caveman?”

“I’m an old fashioned kinda guy.”

Kathryn held up her hands. “Enough of the cheesy homilies please. Someone will overhear and ship us straight back to the Delta Quadrant.”

Another chuckle rumbled through his chest. “Anywhere but there.”

She sobered, and looked out over the rolling hills, unwilling to meet his eyes lest he read her thoughts again.

Chakotay draped his arm around her shoulder, tugged her close to his side, and kissed the top of her head. Her attempt to keep her thoughts to herself was doomed to failure.

He mused quietly, “I miss it too.”

“There you go reading my mind again.” But she didn’t demur and wriggled a little closer. “Are we crazy to miss what was probably the most traumatic experience of our lives?”

His shrug was her initial answer – it was all too complicated to distil down to a couple of trite platitudes as the counselors had attempted to do during their post-mission sessions. They’d been laughable and a complete waste of time. She stroked her hand over the surface of the table again. “Time doesn’t stand still, does it?”

With a shake of his head, he ran his finger along a weathered gouge in the old timber. “No, and thank the spirits for that. If it did, we’d still be orbiting the Caretaker’s array and wondering what the hell we were going to do about it.”

“I was thinking that so much of our time on Voyager seems so long ago and far away; as if it happened to someone else. Is that a strange thought or am I just a little bit insane?”

“How little?”

He received another dig in the ribs for his troubles but she smiled and relaxed against him. “You’re not going to let me be maudlin, are you?”

“No.”

She was quiet for a few moments and then said, “Okay, I’m waiting.”

“What for?”

“Some folksy words of wisdom.”

“Surely not. I’ve never spouted a ‘folksy’ word of wisdom in my life. Sage and erudite observations on the vagaries of existence are my specialty.” He glanced at her. “I’m sure of it.”

She shook her head and laughed, and at the same time grabbed a handful of his shirtfront and pulled him towards her until their lips were only a breath apart. “If you say so. But I have vague memories of an Angry Warrior and his Queen.”

“Oh, that.” He kissed her quickly, and then gave her a self-conscious smile. “I can be forgiven for that. Excessive duress is my excuse. I was madly in love with my captain at the time and had no idea if she would accept my bold declaration or phaser me on the spot. I wanted her very badly and could barely string two words together in her presence, especially when she pranced about in nothing but a towel.”

“I never pranced.”

He grunted. “You did and I thought I did remarkably well with that story, considering my almost inarticulate state.”

Kathryn smiled at the memory. “It seems like a lifetime ago and it’s hard to believe we were we ever that naive?”

“We were. But we’ve come a long way since then.”

“Half a galaxy.”

He nodded slowly and pressed his lips to her forehead. “That too.”

Kathryn sighed and rested her head on his shoulder again. “We almost didn’t make it and it was my fault.”

“You’re talking about us and this?”

She nodded.

“And _you_ get to take all the blame. That’s not fair.”

Kathryn gave a half-hearted shrug. “I think it is. If I’d been a little more open to the concept of ‘us’, things might have been less complicated when we got home.”

“Complicated? I guess that’s one way of looking at it. But if you care to review the specifics, I think you’ll find that I also had a hand in that debacle. And we won’t mention the cast of thousands who were also involved.”

She shuddered. “I still blush when I think about it. But they were only doing what they thought was right. _I_ should have known better.”

He turned slightly and stared down at her, a broad smile gracing his features. “Oh, Kathryn, I’ve never known anyone so eager to hog the limelight.”

“’Hog the limelight.’!?

“Hell, yes. I want my share of the blame. This is a partnership after all and you don’t always get to be the bad guy.”

“Hey, I’m not a ‘guy’.”

He looked at her, his eyes sparking with something hot and heady as his hand inched further up her thigh. “And I can’t tell you how happy I am about that fact.” He cast her a sideways glance. “But I do have to say that I’m pleased you’re a little bit ‘bad’.”

“’Bad’ – as in _evil_ , or ‘bad’ – as in, _I suck_.” She turned wide innocent eyes on him and almost burst out laughing at the look on his face.

His nostrils flared and, before she knew what was happening, he’d jumped to his feet, hoisted her into his arms and was carrying her towards the bedroom.

After an initial yelp of surprise, she relaxed into his arms, clasped her hands behind his neck and began nipping at the exposed skin of his jaw and shoulder.

She would never get tired of this.

Ever!

* * *

Kathryn rested back against the pillows next to a gloriously naked Chakotay. He was dozing; his head resting on her upper arm, his soft even breaths whispering over her breast and his arm heavy across her belly. She smiled. He was exhausted, and no wonder. Their love making was vigorous and adventurous, but they weren’t as young as they used to be; a fact, of which, she’d become all too aware during the first weeks of their relationship.

Muscles she’d forgotten she owned or thought she’d retired long ago, had come painfully to life and, although he’d never admit it, she’d seen Chakotay wince a few times in the mornings as he crawled out of bed. Sadly, limbs and joints just didn’t bend the way they used to when one was twenty, but what she and Chakotay lacked in agility, they made up for with enthusiasm.

She’d never had better sex in her life.

But they’d almost missed their moment. After seven years of dancing around one another, they’d balked at the final hurdle and at the time of Voyager’s arrival in the Alpha quadrant, they were all but estranged.

If it wasn’t for Seven of Nine and her typically overbearing but inadvertently adroit machinations, they might not be here today. Of all the people Kathryn thought would orchestrate their coming together, Seven was the last person on her list.

It just went to prove that one was never too old to learn.

She smiled as she remembered.

Their unexpected arrival on Earth’s doorstep had initiated a frantic flurry of activity, both on Voyager and at Starfleet Headquarters. The comm. system had come close to overload with messages, requests for information and downloads, and hundreds of orders for each and every department. It had been bedlam.

Swarms of private vessels, news corps shuttles and Starfleet ships of all shapes and sizes had swarmed around Voyager and, for a while they’d been worried that after having made it over seventy thousand light years in one piece, they were about to be totaled by friendly but overzealous onlookers.

On the strength of that, a hastily ordered cordon was placed around Voyager, but Kathryn and the crew had only a few minutes to catch their collective breaths before Starfleet engineering staff began arriving to decontaminate the ship – B’Elanna was highly offended - and then medical staff beamed aboard to give the crew a quick once-over – the Doctor even more offended than B’Elanna.

It wasn’t long, however, before they were given the all-clear to transport to the surface.

One of Kathryn’s first duties on arrival had been to send Owen Paris a complete list of Voyager’s crew and their family’s contact information. He’d performed a miracle with a small battalion of Admiralty admin staff managing to contact everyone on that list and offer them immediate transport to San Francisco. By the time the crew were ready to beam down, almost everyone had family or friends waiting to welcome them home. It was a lesson in Starfleet efficiency and Kathryn was immensely grateful to Owen and his team.

For those crew whose families were too far away to journey to San Francisco for this initial welcome; Kathryn made certain that they were with crewmembers who would ensure their inclusion. She needn’t have worried, of course – her Voyager family had done her proud and when she – as the last person to leave the ship – was finally transported to the rallying area, the entire crew was gathered in happy, tearful groups, introducing family and friends to their shipmates and being welcomed by everyone in turn.

It was the joyous event she’d waited years to witness, and seeing her mother again had been, for her, a moment of sublime happiness.

They’d hugged and talked over one another, then hugged again, cried tears of joy and laughed and cried a little more. Kathryn was still wiping tears from her eyes and grinning delightedly at her mother when Gretchen said. “I forgot to tell you, I had the strangest call this afternoon...” But before she could elaborate, Seven chose that moment to approach.

She marched across the room, tall, rigid and beautiful, with Chakotay on one side and a handsome Nordic-looking woman on the other.

Seven stepped directly in front of Kathryn and nodded to her in greeting. “Captain.”

She introduced Kathryn to her aunt, with whom she was planning to stay for the duration of debriefings.

Kathryn glanced at Chakotay and inclined her head in a non-committal acknowledgment of his presence. She had assumed he would be going with Seven, but it seemed their meddling Borg, agent-provocateur, had something entirely different in mind.

There was a prolonged moment of quiet after the introductions were made, but before anyone could break the awkward silence, Seven delivered a strident command in her customary clipped tones. “Captain, Commander, accompany me, please.”

Kathryn looked at Chakotay, and he at her, and then they both looked at Seven.

Chakotay frowned and looked irked. “Seven, surely this can wait?”

Seven had that familiar surly adolescent gleam in her eye that Kathryn knew so well. With that look on her face, Kathryn knew she would be at her most stubborn and insubordinate best.

“No, it cannot wait. With me, please.”

And without another word, she turned and began to walk away from them across the crowded room with every expectation that they would follow. She ploughed a path through the crowd with the subtlety of an icebreaker through cake, and before Kathryn realized what she was doing, she was being carried along in her wake, Chakotay half a pace behind.

She was tempted to turn and look at him but she resisted the urge. He probably knew what this was about and she didn’t want to see the look of triumph on his face. Instead, she girded her loins, preparing herself for any number of horrors. Requests to marry them or to be their best man were the most likely contenders. She didn’t know what she would do if it came to that.

Oh, yes, she did. She would brazen it out and be gracious and kind. It was all she could do. She’d offer her congratulations, thank them sincerely for the honor, and do it.

Then she would go home and die a little inside.

It was no more than she’d expected. Seven years was a long time to wait and it was only through chance, blind luck, and the Admiral’s interference that they were here at all. The thought of another sixteen years captaining Voyager through unknown space was enough to chill Kathryn to the bone.

Even now, lying in the innervating heat of an Italian summer’s day, she felt a shiver trickle down her spine at the thought. She once again thanked her lucky stars that they’d made it home when they did.

She huffed a quiet laugh as she remembered what happened next. Chakotay stirred for a moment, wrapped his arm more securely around her waist, mumbled, “I love you.” against her breast, and drifted back to sleep again. Smiling at his rumpled but relaxed features, she ran her fingers lightly through his hair and then looked up at the slow moving ceiling fan and thought back to the extraordinary events that followed Seven’s command.

Kathryn could feel a hundred and fifty pairs of eyes following their strange procession across the room. It wasn’t the first time she’d been ordered around by her Borg protégé. Seven had never quite mastered the particulars and well-mannered nuances of interpersonal relationships, but Kathryn had always tried to see the merit in her straightforward approach. Little did they realize that they were about to run headlong into a Seven-generated brick wall of inflexibility.

She marched them into the transporter room and gestured for them to take their places on the platform.

Kathryn balked and stood her ground. “What are you doing, Seven? We can’t go anywhere – our families, the crew, Starfleet…?”

“I am fulfilling an obligation.”

Both Kathryn and Chakotay frowned in confusion.

It was Chakotay who asked the obvious question. “What obligation and to whom?”

“To both of you.” Her impassive gaze shifted from Kathryn to Chakotay and then back again. “Captain, I shall be forever in your debt for severing my connection with the Collective and assisting me in reinstating my humanity. Your guidance and friendship has been central to my recovery and rehabilitation. Commander, I wish to thank you for your recent participation in my research on the subject of romantic relationships. Your contribution was most satisfactory and quite adequate for my purposes.”

Although shocked at the current chain of events, Kathryn felt a surge of amusement at Seven’s less the stellar assessment of Chakotay’s ‘contribution’. She muttered a sarcastic, “High praise indeed.”

Her quip earned her a glowering scowl from her second in command, before he turned back to his recent paramour. “You still haven’t explained what we’re doing here.”

Seven looked annoyed, as though it was self-explanatory and they were too dull-witted to grasp the situation. “A sojourn, of an indeterminate time span, has been arranged for you and the Captain at an undisclosed location. It is my hope, amongst others, that with sufficient time spent in each other’s company, you will resolve your differences and move your relationship from one that is platonic in nature to one that is sexual.

Kathryn looked stunned. “What?!”

“Captain, it has been apparent since the day I made my home on Voyager that there exists an unresolved sexual attraction between you and the Commander. For close to seven years you have repressed these desires, which was not only unnecessary, it was also debilitating in the extreme. With our return to the Alpha quadrant, your reasons for restraint have become invalid and it is now time for you and the Commander to copulate.”

Chakotay stammered, “Cop… cop.”

Seven turned to him. “Yes, Commander. Copulate – to engage in coitus or sexual intercourse, to...”

“I know what it means, Seven.” He ran his fingers through his hair. “God, I can’t believe this.”

Kathryn was speechless.

Chakotay shook his head and then laughed. “Paris has put you up to this, hasn’t he?”

“Mr. Paris has indeed been instrumental in arranging communications between myself and Mrs. Janeway. Lieutenant Tuvok endorsed our actions and after some consultation with your mother, we concluded that the cabin at Lake George would lend itself most appropriately to the exercise. Admirals Hayes and Paris have given their permission for a postponement of your debriefings, and the crew has rallied its collective support behind this venture.”

Kathryn was staring again, her jaw slack with disbelief. “Is there anyone in this quadrant - or the next - that isn’t privy to this ridiculous ‘venture’?”

Seven’s brow furrowed for a moment and Kathryn had the awful feeling that she was having trouble thinking of a single individual who wasn’t involved.

Kathryn’s shoulders slumped. “Oh, hell!” She turned to Chakotay and gestured towards her recalcitrant protégé with a jab of her hand. “Say something to her. You’re supposed to be her boyfriend.”

He shrugged. “Apparently, not anymore – if I ever was.”

He didn’t look too distraught about the idea and Kathryn was appalled by the unheralded thrill of relief she felt at the thought. She needed her head read – as did most of the rest of the crew, the Admiralty _and_ her mother. How could they have agreed to such a plan? It was unheard of.

Seven was becoming impatient and pointed towards the transporter pads with a brusque wave of her hand. “I urge you to take your places on the platform before I am forced to summon security.”

Kathryn had an awful feeling that it wasn’t a hollow threat. She looked towards Chakotay, not sure what she was expecting to see, and surprised to find a small but amused smile softening his features. He met her gaze. “I wouldn’t mind deferring debriefings for a time. How long have we got, Seven?”

“As long as it takes, Commander.”

Kathryn was reluctant to surrender so easily but he had a point. However, she still had some questions. “What if we don’t resolve our issues?”

Finished with explanations, Seven grasped them each by the upper arm and marched them onto the platform before stepping off and taking her place behind the console. “I have devised a strategy to counter any reluctance on either of your parts.”

Before Kathryn could ask what that strategy was, they were engulfed by the transporter beam and materialized, naked as the day they were born, in the middle of the living room of her family’s holiday cabin.

With a reaction time that astonished even Kathryn, Chakotay leapt forward, wrapped his arms around her and hauled her body against his.

To say she was startled was the understatement of the century. She ignored, or tried her best to overlook, the feeling of his body flush against hers. As far as she could tell, there was little reluctance in any of their ‘parts’ – Seven’s words had taken on a completely different meaning under the circumstances.

He was warm – unnaturally so – or perhaps she was just overly sensitive. It had been a long time since she’d had skin to skin contact with anyone. It was intoxicating but she was determined to maintain some semblance of dignity in a situation that was so far from dignified it defied belief.

She raised her head slowly and gazed at the man holding her in his arms. “Commander?”

He shrugged. “I thought this was the most effective way to keep ourselves covered.”

She frowned. “Effective? Perhaps, but there’s a small flaw in your plan.”

She could feel him hardening against her – not that he seemed embarrassed or upset by that fact. Undoubtedly, it was simply an unconscious reaction to her proximity – it would happen if any female was pressed up against him. That thought didn’t make her feel one iota better.

“Small?” He blinked slowly, but she could see a hint of amusement in his eyes and felt the muscles of his back tighten under her hands, and a shiver run across his shoulders.

She didn’t know what to say or do, although her body had its own ideas. A small but definite undulation made him gasp and he hardened even more, the press of his erection pushing against the pliant give of her belly.

She muttered a quiet, “Oh, dear.”

“My thoughts exactly.” But still, he didn’t move.

“I…ummm, I… ” She stammered before she let out a sighing moan as his hands drifted down her back and cupped her buttocks.

“I don’t think talking is what they had in mind.”

She frowned. “I hate being maneuvered.”

But again her body overrode her wishes and she pressed into him, her inner muscles pulsing and her lower body tilting forward, searching for relief.

“If you keep that up, I’m not going to be able to stop myself from doing… ” He inhaled sharply and exhaled on a sigh.

“From doing what?” She had to ask.

He stilled for a long moment and then groaned a tortured, “This.” And without another word, he lifted her up, his hands gripping her bottom as he lay her down on the couch, his body coming to rest over hers and his mouth pressing against the sensitive skin on her neck.

She arched under him but, the small portion of her brain that was still functioning, rallied and she gripped his shoulders. “We shouldn’t… we really should…”

He sighed. “If you don’t want this, Kathryn, tell me now.”

She was going to say something. Really, she was. It was on the tip of her tongue to tell him no, but… oh God, she wanted this. With every ounce of her being she wanted this. She had for years. And there was no reason why they couldn’t.

She knew that he would stop if she asked him to, and because of that, she relaxed and relented.

Unable to utter a coherent word, she ran her hand over his shoulder and wove her fingers through his hair as her other hand gripped his hip and she angled herself towards him.

He merely sighed and nipped at her neck with warm lips before he whispered in her ear, “I love you.”

Those words were her undoing. She gave into her need and his and without a moment of regret from that day to this, she’d been happier than she’d ever been in her life.

They’d made love on the couch, on the rug in front of the fire, and finally in the bed of her childhood room. And they’d talked for hours. Resolving, as ordered, all the misunderstandings and misapprehensions they’d been unable to broach whilst she was captain and he was her first officer.

This outrageous and downright crazy ploy had worked and they had Seven of Nine, of all people, to thank for it.

Later that night, Kathryn had woken to find Chakotay missing from her bed. She’d followed the light shining from the living room. He was sitting naked on a chair in front of the unit, the viewer casting its blue tinged light across his handsome features.

He looked up. “Hi there.” He reached for her and pulled her onto his lap, wrapping one arm around her and tucking her close to chest.

“What are you doing?”

“Sending a message to Seven of Nine.”

Kathryn tensed involuntarily but Chakotay kissed her breast and then her lips and smiled. “See.”

On the screen was a single word. She huffed a laugh and shook her head. “Allow me.”

He leaned back a little and Kathryn pressed the send button.

The comm. unit pinged – the sound loud in the quiet – and the word he’d sent sat flashing on the screen.

**_‘Resolved.’_ **

* * *

Kathryn smiled to herself, the memories still vivid in her mind. They’d been together ever since that day and after spending a week cloistered in the cabin at Lake George, they’d returned to San Francisco to the congratulations and smug delight of their friends and family.

Admiral Hayes had been as good as his word and their debriefings began a week after the rest of the crew.

She closed her eyes and with her hand still tangled in his hair, she dozed for a time before his kisses woke her and they made love again.

They’d spent the last month here in Tuscany. It was a place she’d promised herself she’d visit if she ever made it home – and it had been the perfect spot to rest and recuperate, and take the time to consolidate their relationship.

They’d leave here in the next day or two – they were both ready – but this place would always hold a special place in her heart. It was a pity they couldn’t pack it up and take it with them.

That thought sparked a germ of an idea and she smiled. She would talk to Chakotay about it in the morning and then see what they could do about making it happen.

* * *

Kathryn handed Tom a carafe of wine and he moved along the table, filling people’s glasses and greeting latecomers. Chakotay, lounged at the other end, in deep conversation with Dalby, Chapman and Vorik – she couldn’t begin to hazard a guess as to the topic of their conversation; a less likely group of friends one was hard pressed to imagine.

Seven of Nine was sitting with B’Elanna, Miral tucked against her arm, the baby wide-eyed and curious, fascinated by the sparkle of Seven’s implants – her gaze riveted to Seven’s face.

Seven seemed oblivious but she was lightly patting the baby’s back and Miral was relaxed and calm, her gaze trusting as it was intense. It was a sight Kathryn had never thought to see, but after a rocky start and bumpy ride in the early months after their arrival, Seven had found her niche on Jupiter Station working with Dr Zimmerman and his team. The Doctor was there too, reveling in his celebrity and the pitch battles he fought with his creator and alter ego. But he was also happy with his new life and Kathryn felt confident leaving Seven in his care. They would be all right.

She looked up met Chakotay’s gaze – it was uncanny how she could feel his eyes on her no matter where she was or what she was doing. He smiled and quirked an eyebrow and Kathryn smiled her reply. This was the reason they’d taken all those risks and fought so hard to get home. All these people – their friends, their Voyager family – all of them closer than blood and so dear to her heart.

A shout of raucous laughter erupted at the far end of the table and rumbled down the ranks as the joke was shared and enjoyed.

This tableau - her crew gathered around a table, dishes of delicious food strewn across the checkered tablecloth, wine being shared and the sound of laughter and voices tumbling over each other in a joyous cacophony of friendship and love - was the realization of that imaginary montage she’d stored away all those months ago.

Kathryn took time out to absorb the moment. She rested her hands on the tabletop and sent her thanks to the woman who had sacrificed everything to bring them home safe and sound. Had she known? Kathryn had an inkling that she did, and her dreams and Kathryn’s had coalesced and come to life – bigger, bolder and brighter than she ever could have imagined.

The warmth of the antique timber, so like that of the old table on the balcony of the villa she and Chakotay had shared, heated her palms and reminded her of the memories they shared and ones they had yet to make.

She watched as Chell reached across the table and knocked over a glass of red wine. He leapt to his feet, apologizing as he looked around for something to mop up the mess.

Kathryn smiled and shook her head. “Don’t worry, Mr. Chell. Leave it.”

She would cherish that stain and all the others that would appear over the years and add to the rich patina of the old oak tabletop.

And one day, in the long distant future, perhaps someone would sit at this table and wonder about the people who had loved and laughed and celebrated life’s wonders amongst a scatter of dishes and the splashes of red wine.

Kathryn picked up her glass and called for a toast.

All eyes turned towards her and she raised her glass. “To friends, to family, to love, to home, and the happy accidents of life.”

She sipped her wine, her eyes meeting Chakotay’s at the far end of the table, and she smiled.

 

_fin_


End file.
